The Sea! as smooth as silk,

And the froth of it like new milk,

And the sky a wonderful blue,

The cliff harebells have it too,

And scatter'd all over the shore

A thousand Children or more!

Suppose we join, one-will'd,

A City of Sand to build,

With a rampart broad and strong

From rock to rock along,

Solid and firm enough

To last till the sea grows rough

And the days turn chilly and short,

The end of our seaside sport,

When all must bundle and pack

And swift in the train go back,

Big folk and little folk,

To London lamps and smoke?

Let's draw out our plan to-night,

Begin it with morning light.

We'll bring all the Children together

And build in the sweet sunny weather.

What use in a House of Sand?

But a City—that would be grand!

O yes, I am sure it will stand!

And I, who first thought of the thing,

Perhaps they will make me King?